Page 61 of Angel

I shut the door and sneak one last look out the window, drawing the curtains apart. The bikes zoom down the street, passing by the motel. Just random bikers, not club members. I breathe a sigh of relief. I really need to calm down and stop being so paranoid.

As I turn around, Venom walks out of the bathroom. Naked. I suck in a deep breath. He’s straight-up naked. I thought he looked like a Spartan warrior last night, but here in the light of day, he’s a fucking god. His gloriously wet body drips, each bead of water sliding down his chest and over every ripple of his abs. His large cock’s just there. Staring at me. Saying hey.

Speaking of wet… I can’t deny the arousal between my legs.

It’s like watching a train wreck. I can’t look away. Except he’s not a disaster. No, he’s absolutely fucking perfect. My heart flutters, and I quickly spin around to face the wall. “What are you doing? Why are you naked?” My voice makes a weird high-pitched sound.

“Fuck, I heard the door and thought you left. Sorry.” He’s been apologizing a lot lately. And now I feel him directly behind me, at my back.

Oh, God. My shins touch the side of the bed as I move forward with nowhere else to go. Although, I can easily move to the side, but my body doesn’t want to.

He reaches past me, snagging his boxers off the bed with his left hand. But his other rests directly above my right elbow, and I close my eyes with the contact. His sizzling, moan-inducing, damp touch. What is he doing to me? My insides are screaming for more. I just want him to grab me. Everywhere. Run his hands all over my body, like he’s consuming me with everything he has. Lick, suck, taste me like he did last night.

His length rubs against me, and my body’s set ablaze. “Guess we’re even,” he whispers, his hot breath beating down my neck. Right… he saw me naked, but we are not even. Even would be him throwing me on this bed before towering over me. Maybe licking every single part of me and driving his thick, monstrous length into me.

I inhale his soapy, clean, fresh scent. Venom is all man, and I cannot deny that.

“I need to go pick up the package and then take it to the meeting spot. You should stay here.” His tone is bossy and emotionless. I twist around, not realizing he was so close, and my eyes are in the direct line of sight of his perfectly formed, smooth chest. I glance down and water droplets still trickle along each muscle.

I drift over and off to the side. In a safer zone. “You’re not leaving me here, as if I’m incapable of taking care of myself.”

“Fine, let’s go,” he agrees, so easily nonetheless. Maybe he’s too tired to argue with me. I go to open the door, but his hand knocks it closed, caging me in. “I don’t want you saying anything during this meetup. Got it?”

“You have such little faith in me.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that. I do. But that’s because I know how you love to use that mouth of yours.”

Oh, he has no idea how I can use my mouth.

Venom

After entering the correct combination, the mechanism pops and I open the locker, making sure no one’s around as I tuck the white bag of poison inside my leather cut’s pocket. I can’t wait until these little fucking jobs are over and done with.

“They keep it inside a regular gym locker? Are they crazy?” Angel whispers.

“The less suspicious the place, the better. Come on, let’s go.” I take her arm, guiding her out of the public locker room.

“Where to now?”

“A strip club.”

“What kind of strip club is open at ten a.m.?”

“The kind a biker club owns.”

About ten minutes down the road, we pull up to the building. All of two cars occupy the lot. Angel and I park our bikes and strut up to the door. And just as I’m about to open it, the bouncer swings it forward, eyeing us up and down. “He’s waiting for you, but he’s running late. Have a seat at the bar, and someone will come down to get you.” The big dude waves us inside, but after I pass him, he sticks an arm out, stopping Angel. “You one of the dancers?”

Of course, he would think that. She looks like a fucking super model. “She’s with me,” I tell him. Threatening and possessive. But I want everyone to know to keep their filthy hands to themselves. He nods and lets her through.

The place is your typical strip joint. Stages, poles dead center, and the usual wrap-around bar off to the side. The lights are dim, and the only customers are two no-lifers sitting directly across the stage, watching the one dancer swing her leg around the metal pole, and they already look piss drunk.

“Well, guess we should order a drink while we wait,” Angel suggests.

She sits next to me at the bar, and her scent infiltrates my senses, claiming me as its own. I’m slayed by this woman. Everything she’s about. From her scent to her seductive persona. The way she carries herself on the outside is the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed. Even though I know she’s hurting on the inside, I’m drawn in. Addicted to her pain. Because I’m a sick fuck.

But how she took my pain from me last night was something I’ll never forget. She chased away years of suffering with just one touch, and I don’t think I’ll ever be the fucking same.

I sit, drinking my beer, with her perfect ass plopped in the stool next to me. She flirts with the bartender, which makes me want to choke the son of a bitch. But this—this is who she has to be. To gain acceptance, in order for people to understand her.

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